


Should Be Happy

by Raletha



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Drama, Ficlet, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-11
Updated: 2010-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raletha/pseuds/Raletha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duo feels he should be happy for his friends.  Circa 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should Be Happy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [windsorblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsorblue/gifts).



It's a cold night, a Friday night in December. The air has a bite I've learned often comes before a snow. I tuck my hands deeper into my jacket pockets and watch Trowa and Quatre walk away from me. They're not holding hands -- they said they weren't ready for their relationship to be public knowledge yet -- but they are walking close, their arms and shoulders brushing occasionally, their heads turned toward each other. You'd have to be blind not to see it: they're new lovers. Quatre told me this morning about last night, what happened after he drove Trowa home from work.

I should be happy for them. I should be glad I don't have to watch them being unsure and awkward with each other, glad I don't have to put up with the longing looks and plaintive sighing, glad I don't have to listen to each of them swear me to secrecy and then tell me how much he wants the other.

Thing is, Friday night used to be ours, all three of us. After working late, we'd go out to the bar downstairs. Trowa and I would drink beer. Quatre would have a virgin cocktail of some sort, unless it had been a bad day; then he'd go all James Bond and have a martini. On those days I would drink soda or juice and be the designated driver.

We'd listen to the jazz band; I'd dance and Trowa would tease me. Quatre would sometimes become a guest pianist of sorts and get the bartenders to sing along with him. He has a nice singing voice, but he won't sing solo.

Afterward, we'd walk a few blocks to a pool hall and play a few games until the smoke got to me. Trowa would always win. Then we'd go home in Quatre's car. If I drove, I'd return Quatre's car to him the next morning, and we'd have breakfast together.

It's after work on Friday, and they're going home without me. I turn and go into the downstairs bar. I order a beer and listen to the jazz band, but I don't get up to dance. Not even when a pretty girl asks me. I sigh and sip my beer. I should be happy for them.

  


**the end**


End file.
